Forgotten Codes
by whowriter
Summary: A bored Clara stumbles across an old file in the TARDIS' computer, and an old photo with the words 'BAD WOLF.' - I've been absent from fanfic for some time, would love feedback! :)
1. Bored Clara

Clara strolled around the console, running her fingers along its edge, with a bored pout on her face. She sighed, leaning back against the cyclical structure and tapping her fingers. The Doctor had decided he "really ought" to show her… well, something or other… and had run off down a corridor. She had tried to follow him for a while, but quickly gave up when she could no longer make out his monologue (and, if she was honest, she didn't much care for the idea of being trapped in another TARDIS maze).

She'd somehow managed to make her way back to the console room, and had been in there alone for several hours now. It wasn't unusual for the Doctor to disappear like this, and if they hadn't been floating in space she probably would have gone out on her own. But they were, and she was stuck. Clara sighed for the second time, and looked up at the seemingly never-ending ship.

"Did he do this to the others?" she asked. There was a soft hum that she decided to take as a confirmation. "Figures," she said. She paused for a moment, before walking over to the railing and pulling herself onto it, swinging her tight-clad legs. She was pleased with this outfit, black tights and her favourite blue dress (little flowers and a cute collar) with her flat shoes.

"Bored, bored, bored," she muttered, and then looked up at the ship again. "Give me something to do?" Clara asked. "Something to read or… something."

This time there was no hum.

"Oh, come on!" she said. "I thought you were starting to like me! I like you, you know! Most of the time…" The memory of the time the TARDIS had hidden her bedroom sprung to mind (and then forced her to share it with a future version of herself – how that worked she still had no idea).

Silence again.

"I bet you've never liked any of us," she said, raising her eyebrows, as if trying to coax out a reaction from the ship. It didn't work.

"You've probably done the bedroom trick on all of them, haven't you?" This question gave rise to a low hum, and Clara smirked with a little pride. This might work. Or, at least, occupy her enough until the Doctor returned. Whenever that might be.

"Go on then," she said, turning one of the screens to face her, "show me one companion you've liked. Bet you can't."

There was a whirring sound that reminded her of her laptop, and then an image of the Doctor came onto the screen. Clara raised an eyebrow. "Very funny," she said. "One of the _Doctor's_ companions. You know what I meant."

The whirring sound repeated, and a new image came onto the screen. It was of a woman (no surprise there) a little younger than she was.

"That was quicker than I expected," Clara muttered, then began to look properly at the girl in the photo. She had bleached blonde hair, big brown mascara-coated eyes and a large, toothy smile with her tongue poked out at the corner. Clara smiled involuntarily. She was cute. The sort of person who makes you want to hold their hand and give them a kiss on the cheek. The sort of person she probably would have had a crush on in school. Nice dimples.

But she still had a game to play. Feigning disinterest she pulled a face, scrunching up her nose, and looked up at the rotor.

"What's so special about her then?"

Galifreyan letters clicked onto the screen in front of the image, apparently explaining what is was about this girl the TARDIS was so fond of. Clara frowned, genuinely this time. "Translate?" she ventured. The ship complied, and the words switched into English.

'BAD WOLF.'

She stared at the screen, not understanding what the message was supposed to be. Between the TARDIS & the Doctor Clara thought that she was expected to instantly understand a little too much. "What's bad wo - "

There was a loud clamour – like the sound of a fry pan hitting tiles – and a small yell from the Doctor. Clara rolled her eyes, instantly amused, but looked up to see if her best friend was all right. The time lord walked into the console room with a grumpy look on his face, holding a small metal contraption.

The TARDIS gave a quicker whirring noise, and a soft beep, and the screen went blank. Clara suddenly had the distinct impression she had found something she wasn't supposed to.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Wolf Activated

Clara ran a hand through her hair. She immediately regretted it. The hand was now covered in dust, goo, and emitting the same revolting smells as her hair. So much for her favourite dress… she really should have known better than to wear it with him.

"I think I should have a shower," she announced, frowning down at her hand.

"You do smell," the Doctor agreed, and she shot him a look, trying to remind him of the reason why she smelled.

He didn't seem to mind, concentrating on pulling a particularly thick strand of the goo of his shoulder, and dropping it on the TARDIS floor with a soft plunk.

Clara stared at the goo, thinking about how long it would take her to wash her hair. She really should have a shower.

"I'll see you in an hour, alright?"

"That's optimistic," the Doctor called back to her, no trace of a joke in his tone, and she couldn't help but laugh a little.

As it turned out, it was optimistic. Very optimistic. It took a bath and two showers before her body was completely gunk-free, and even then her bathroom was stuck with a rather distinct smell… She hopped into bed, having given up on spending any more time with the Doctor tonight, and stared at the ceiling. It was covered with tiny stars. As much as the TARDIS seemed to enjoy messing with her, at the end of the day it always had her back – much like the Doctor did, come to think of it – and had provided her with the perfect room. But as comfortable as she was, she just couldn't get her mind to turn off. She glanced over at the clock on her bedside table. It was doing that funny thing it always did when they were in space, forward one second, back one second, then forward two. She didn't understand it. But even so, she could see it was late enough that he would either be in the library, or have disappeared entirely until morning.

A little voice in her mind spoke up; _'you could go find that photo again.'_

An hour and a half later, and Clara was back in the console room, trying to persuade the TARDIS into reintroducing her to the girl with the brown eyes.

"Okay, fine. Just show me all his companions!"

With a small beep, a vast collage of tiny faces came onto the screen, moving past her eyes than she could keep up with. But she could still work with this.

"Alright," she said, voice cautious, "now just the women."

There wasn't a lot of change. "Such a bloke," she muttered.

"Slow down," she asked the TARDIS. It didn't listen.

A little tentatively, she tried pressing a button. The images sped up. She pressed another one. They sped up again. Frustrated, she tried one more time. They disappeared.

"Stop winding me up!" she said, pressing two more.

The images came back.

"Thank you!"

They disappeared again.

"Seriously?"

She pressed several more buttons with renewed frustration. There was a loud whirring noise, and a beeping sound to her left. She turned to face the source of the noise.

A holographic image flickered into existence in front of her, a man, and she knew instantly (almost instinctively) that this was the Doctor. It wasn't _her_ Doctor… this one was younger, well, older than the last – "confusing," she muttered – but younger than the current man. He was attractive, tall, slim, and wearing glasses. His hair defied gravity, and his style was a little... odd. A pinstriped suit clad his skinny frame, while worn converses covered his feet. There was a tiny scribble on the side of one, but it was too small to read.

"Visual interface has been activated," he said in a monotone voice, and Clara realised she was really still looking at the computer. "Do you wish to begin the designated program?"

Clara frowned very slightly. Maybe she had pushed too many buttons… she wasn't sure what program it was she had selected. Best check.

"What program?" she asked the Doctor's image.

"File E.B.R.R-1. Last updated six point three seven galactic class years ago. Currently inactive. Security sequence Pheta-B-7. Programmed for indefinite storage. Do you wish to begin the designated program?"

She bit her lip. That didn't help. "Does it have any other name?" she asked, feeling silly.

"There is no other name for this program," the Doctor said. For a second she thought she saw a smirk.

Clara stared at the hologram, debating whether curiosity was a good enough reason to snoop… Well, continue snooping. In any other context she would have almost definitely said yes, but it was the Doctor's personal files she was peering in to... It suddenly dawned on her that she might have gone to far.

"Do you wish to begin the designated program?" the image repeated with a flicker.

"Alright, alright," Clara said, resisting the urge to pace. "Okay," she said, standing up a little straighter. "Open it." After all, she was living with the man.

"Password required."

The words popped into her head right away.

"Bad wolf," she said.

What was this Bad Wolf thing about anything? It sounded a little, to her, like some sort of inside joke between the TARDIS, the time lord and the Brown-Eyed Girl (which was what Clara called her in her head). Whatever it was, it worked.

The hologram flicked once more, before speaking for a final time. "Password accepted. Launching program." It then disappeared.

A few seconds passed. Nothing happened. Clara was beginning to think this was just an extension of that inside joke, when a new hologram popped into place. It was her.

"Brown Eyed Girl," Clara said, feeling slightly dumb struck, blinking a few times.

To her surprise, the girl blinked back.

"Where am I?" she said, young London accent sitting perfectly on her lips. "Who are you?"

"What kind of program is this?" Clara muttered, subconsciously stepping back.

"Program?" the girl repeated, frowning. She looked around. "Where are we? Some sort of space station?"

Clara didn't say anything. The girl looked back to her.

Clara looked her up and down. She was dressed in jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt, and her hair was shorter than in the photo.

"What is it you want then? Because I don't really wanna wait around for answers, yeah? And my friend will be really annoyed when he finds out I'm missing. Again," she added, in a much slightly softer, almost sheepish, voice.

Clara blinked again, not quite sure what to do.

Her silence seemed to throw the hologram off a little, and the girl spoke a little more gently.

"Is something wrong? Is that why you brought me here?"

Clara swallowed, and then stepped forward again. "My name's Clara," she said. "And I didn't mean to bring you here… you just sort of… activated. Well, the Doctor activated. And then you did. But that's not really important."

"You know the Doctor?" the girl said, raising her eyebrows. "Why am I not surprised." The hologram looked her up and down a bit, before saying under her breath (not that she really had any breath); "Mickey 'ill have a field day."

"I don't know whether to be offended or flattered," Clara laughed, and then stopped, remembering she was having a conversion with a computer program.

"You know," she continued, "when I found your photo I thought you were… well, real."

The girl frowned. "What do you mean? And where did you find my photo? How do you know the Doctor?"

"I'm his companion," Clara said automatically. She was used to answering that one. "We're… best friends."

"His companion," the girl repeated, before suddenly noticing the time rotor. "Wait a minute – is this the TARDIS? Is this some sort of time swap thing? Is this the past? Or the future…"

Clara took a moment. "You mean you don't know what you are?"

The girl stopped. "I'm Rose. Rose Tyler. I'm a human. And I travel with the Doctor. That's what I am. What – who – are you?"

"Rose Tyler," Clara repeated, getting the feel of the name, and trying to let it's meaning sink in. "You're a hologram," she said.

"What?" Rose laughed, looking at her like she was crazy.

The sound of footsteps approached them, and both women turned to face the newcomer. Clara felt immediately guilty, the hologram – Rose – had a sort of defiant expression, and the Doctor looked as if he'd been punched in the gut.

"What – how – how- " he spluttered, staring at the hologram. Then she flickered. Realisation dawned on his face.

"Deactivate E.B.R.R-1," he said quickly.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Rose said, before suddenly flickering out of existence again.


End file.
